


she burns, like rum on the fire

by loverosie



Series: recovery is a difficult road to follow [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Not Actually Unrequited Love, clarke deserves happiness and bellamy does too, clexa are together but lexa isn't here, not lexa positive at all btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24255232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loverosie/pseuds/loverosie
Summary: She knew how unfair she was being because, with those four final spoken words, Clarke already hooked him in. He could never say no to her.  She knew that and everybody around them knew that as well, and she was a horrible person for doing this to him.She shouldn’t have come.“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here. I’m going to go—”Bellamy let the door fall open.She felt some weight come off of her shoulders, and the light coming from his entryway blinded her.“You can come in.”
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: recovery is a difficult road to follow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791337
Comments: 21
Kudos: 104





	she burns, like rum on the fire

**Author's Note:**

> hi i don't really write fic and i'm amazed i even got to write this. okay little disclaimer this fic is based on my life because there is someone in my life who is my lexa. and it got really bad between us, and i ended up crying and writing this because writing helps me calm me down.
> 
> there are triggering content in here. there is emotional abuse (not between bellarke, but between clexa), and clarke has developed an eating disorder. 
> 
> i'm surprised i even finished writing this, but whatever. thank you to nai for supporting me while writing, and to shannon for reading over everything and editing this because i didn't want to look at it again because i felt too raw and vulnerable. i'm sorry if you like lexa because she isn't a good person in this at all.
> 
> UPDATE: OK SO IDK HOW AO3 WORKS AND IF YOU SEE THIS IN THE TAGS AGAIN IM SORRY IM TRYING TO PUT IT IN A SERIES

_ “Maybe one day when I can choose better, I’ll give it a shot. If not, that’s okay too.” -Bijou Hunter _

\---

She didn’t intend for this to happen. It all happened in a rush, walking out the door with a shake in her hands and her heart breaking in her chest.

Clarke ignored the calls of her name coming from the door, from  _ her _ , and continued to walk away. She could take her car, it would make for a faster escape, but she couldn’t drive like this. Clarke wasn’t in the condition for it, with the tears flooding her eyes and the deluge of pain tearing her apart, inside and out. 

She didn’t remember how she ended up here. In front of his apartment, looking pathetic to any onlookers, her drenched clothing clinging to her skin and her hair a complete mess. The rain and tears on her face were indistinguishable, all she felt was the wetness and the snot running down her face.

Clarke hadn’t seen Bellamy in months, and he opened the door to see her looking more broken than ever, every bit of ugliness inside her threatening to spill out.

“Clarke?” It was the first time she heard her name spoken so softly in months, coming from him. Had she any tears left, she would’ve cried some more.

“I know I don’t deserve this, and it is unfair for me to come to you like this after all this time, but I need someone right now. I can’t—I can’t be alone.” She was aware she was babbling, and she was completely aware that Bellamy had the door opened only a tiny bit, to show that she was not welcomed anymore. She deserved that, but that didn’t stop her heart from breaking a little bit more.

She knew how unfair she was being because, with those four final spoken words, Clarke already hooked him in. He could never say no to her. She knew that and everybody around them knew that as well, and she was a horrible person for doing this to him.

She shouldn’t have come.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here. I’m going to go—”

Bellamy let the door fall open.

She felt some weight come off of her shoulders, and the light coming from his entryway blinded her.

“You can come in.”

\---

Clarke was on his couch, wrapped in the blanket he gave her with a mug of hot tea on her lap. It was chamomile, her favorite. Bellamy had made it for her without a word. Clarke was surprised he had chamomile in his cupboard. He despised the flavor more than anything.

He only bought them for her, and he kept them in his cupboards still.

She shouldn’t have come. 

“Do you need anything else? I have some fresh clothes you could borrow. I know Octavia isn’t your size, you can wear something of mine.” Bellamy walked to his room, presumably going through his drawers.

She took this moment to look around the apartment, standing up from her position on the couch but keeping the blanket over her shoulders. Clarke hadn't been to his place for a while, not only during those months where they didn’t speak at all, but longer than that. Lexa had asked her to stop going to Bellamy’s place months before she requested Clarke stop speaking to Bellamy at all. Clarke tried to reason with her, but it was hopeless. Lexa wouldn’t hear it.

The apartment was in the same condition from when she was last here, she noted. Clarke didn’t know what she expected. Did she think he was going to be miserable without her? That his life would be put on pause once she cut him out of her life?

Through it all, Clarke was undeniably and disgustingly selfish. Bellamy was allowed to go on with his life without her in it, even though her life went downhill at the snap of her fingers and her depression worsened day by day, it didn’t mean Bellamy had to go down with her. 

Bellamy had a life outside of her, that was clear based on the way his life seemed completely intact while hers was in ruins. 

She shouldn’t be here. Bellamy would drop everything for her if she asked, and she was so completely aware of it.

Clarke was selfish.

“Here, I got you some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. No offense, but you look like a wet dog. Not even a cute dog, like a completely ratty wet dog.” Bellamy handed her the clothes and a towel, with a soft smile on his face. 

Bellamy always treated her with kindness, even after she had been so cruel and blocked him on everything, ignoring him at the door every time he came by. She didn’t deserve any of this.

“You don’t need to give me this, Bellamy.” She grabbed the pile of clothing with an apprehensive look on her face, unsure whether this close contact between them was okay or not. Clarke was grateful for the towel though, she really did feel like a wet dog.

“Well, it’s either you wear my clothes or you just get my couch all wet because you refuse to change out of wet clothes. I’m not happy with either option, but the former seems better for both of us, don’t you think?” There it was. The rudeness that she deserved, not the kindness and gentleness. She wanted the Bellamy she first met to come out, the one who got in her face and yelled at her when she yelled at him. Clarke wanted that Bellamy to return, to tell her that she was the selfish princess he always knew she was, she didn’t want the caring and loving Bellamy standing in front of her. Didn’t deserve him.

Clarke wanted him to get angry at her, tell her that she was at fault and wasn’t worthy of happiness. That’s what he should tell her, after everything she put him through.

Bellamy picked up her empty mug and walked to the kitchen to wash it. Another thing to add to her list of “I am a horribly selfish person and I can’t even pick up my own shit”. He had to be a good person and wash her mug for her when she could have done it out of courtesy and she wasn’t completely hopeless.

Why was she upset in the first place? Clarke didn’t know. She was being irrational, and she still shouldn’t be here. The texts blowing up her phone from Lexa were proof.

She went to the bathroom to change anyway and turned off her phone. 

She shouldn’t be here, but she didn’t want to be there either. At least with Bellamy, she was safe.

\---

_ God, I really do look disgusting,  _ she thought to herself while looking at her reflection. Her hair was everywhere on her head and stuck to her face. The makeup she spent hours applying for her anniversary date with Lexa was running down her cheeks, and there was snot all over the lower half of her face. 

Bellamy had the decency to not mention it to her, but it was embarrassing for him to see her like this. Completely raw and broken. Ugly. She hadn’t taken her antidepressants in weeks and Lexa wasn’t letting her go to the pharmacy for a refill, so here she was. Naked and vulnerable.

Clarke washed her face, using some toilet paper to clean the mess on her face. She ran her hands down her hair to flatten it out, even though it would be a mess of tangles by the time she actually brushed it.  _ Who cares,  _ Clarke thought to herself,  _ Bellamy already saw me with snot all over my face and this isn’t even the worst I’ve looked in a while _ .

Clarke stared at her half-naked body for the first time in months, her ribcage sticking out and her bra hanging loosely on her body. Her clothes had become too big on her since Lexa started planning her meals. Over the last seven months, Clarke had lost so much weight that she stopped looking at the mirror. She probably should have bought a bra that would accommodate her smaller breast size now, but Lexa didn’t let her go shopping anymore, so she made do with what she had.

(“You’re so close to fitting my clothes, babe,” Lexa said to Clarke one day while they ate their salad. “Just a few more pounds, and we’ll be the same size.” Clarke didn’t say anything, just looked out the window.)

Her cheeks had become hollow, and she looked like a walking skeleton. Another thing Bellamy didn’t mention.

Clarke took off her bra, deeming it unnecessary especially since it wasn’t her cup size anymore. Bellamy’s sweatshirt would be gigantic on her anyways.

She looked down at the soaked pile of clothing on the tile floor and kicked it into the corner of the bathroom, pulling on Bellamy’s clothes. 

Clarke glanced at her reflection one last time. She was right about the sweatshirt being huge on her, and while she should have been worried about her extreme weight loss the past few months, she felt happy for a moment. She used to wear Bellamy’s clothes constantly, and they always felt like home to her, even when he laughed at her every time she mentioned that to him. 

That feeling stayed the same. It never strayed, and she needed it more than anything at the moment.

For this fleeting second, Clarke was grateful she came. She wasn’t aware of how homesick she was until now. 

(She missed him. She thought about him every day, was tempted to text him every time she was on her phone and wanted to call him every now and then to reconcile. Clarke obviously missed his hugs and the way he would pick up the phone immediately every time she called, but she also missed the little things too. Clarke missed his little laugh when she would say something ridiculous, and something he wouldn’t expect her to say. She missed his hands running down to part her hair before he braided her pigtails, because Clarke didn’t know how to braid. She missed hearing his humming when his favorite yet annoyingly obnoxious song played on the radio because,  _ How can you drive without wanting to sing along to it, Clarke? _

God, she missed him.)

“Clarke? You okay in there?” Bellamy’s voice pulled her out of her train of thought and made her aware once again of where she was and how she ended up here. 

In a state of panic, Clarke responded with, “Yeah! I’m okay, I was just cleaning up.” Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to see Bellamy standing outside the bathroom. 

“Are you okay?” He looked so concerned for her which made her heart ache. All the anger towards her from earlier only seemed to dissipate in a matter of minutes. 

Clarke nodded, afraid that if she said something she would ruin this fragile thing between them. If she spoke to him right now, everything she had been keeping inside would spill out, and she wasn’t going to burden him with this.

Bellamy reached out to her, a brief touch on her shoulder that made her step back immediately. She chose to ignore the hurt look on his face and walked past him to return to the living room. 

God, she didn’t deserve his kindness.

“Why are you here, Clarke?” He walked up behind her, his voice cautious yet ever so cautious. Clarke was sick of it.

_ Yell at me, _ she wanted to cry out.  _ Tell me I shouldn’t be here, and I don’t deserve to see you after all this time. Tell me everything that  _ she _ tells me so I can finally understand. _

Clarke laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in the air like a disobedient child. “Isn’t that the million-dollar question nowadays? Why are you here, Clarke?” She spoke in a high pitched voice, mocking Bellamy. 

Bellamy looked pained. Good.

She needed to destroy the last good thing in her life anyway.

“What are you doing, Clarke? Why are you eating that, Clarke? You know you’d gain weight, and you are so close to your goal already. Why would you say that in front of my friends, Clarke? You humiliated me in front of everybody I know. Why would you do that?” She needed to shut up, right this instant, but it won’t stop, it wasn’t stopping,  _ oh my god why can’t I stop-- _

“Why are you wearing that, Clarke? It doesn’t look good on you. Clarke, you need to realize your father would be disappointed in you. He wouldn’t want to see you wasting your life like this. Why do you need medication anyway? You seem alright to me, stop getting so upset at me. What the fuck is wrong with you, Clarke? You’re a horrible person, you know that right? No wonder your mom cut you off, and no wonder your friends don’t like you anymore. Stop crying, it’s embarrassing me. Stop crying, stop crying, stop—” 

She broke.

Bellamy dropped down to pick her up off of the floor, even though she was incapable of moving. Clarke was rambling incoherent things, everything spilling out of her against her own will. She couldn’t stop crying, and she couldn’t stop hating herself because Lexa was right, she was worthless and didn’t deserve to be happy. She didn’t even know what she was saying, and everything was hitting her all at once and she couldn’t  _ breathe _ .

“Clarke, look at me. Hey, hey, look at me. Baby, breathe, please. I’m here, I’m here.” Bellamy pulled her close to his body, holding her face in his hands. His words were background noise in her head, all she heard was Lexa’s insults and her disappointment in her. Clarke wasn’t even realizing she was trying to push him away, hitting his chest while crying out  _ no _ . 

She didn’t deserve his kindness, she really didn’t and she never will. He should hate her, he should yell at her. He should have closed the door on her the second he saw her. He should tell her that she was a wretched human being and he doesn’t want to see her ever again. Clarke deserved that more than anything.

“You deserve to be happy, Clarke.” 

Clarke was speaking aloud this whole time. How stupid could she be?

“No, I don’t.” All the fight inside her deflated, and she stared into Bellamy’s eyes. She hadn’t seen him this sad in a long time.

“Yes, you do.” He brushed a stray tear down her cheek away, his voice earnest and unwavering.

“I’ve been unfair to you, Bellamy. I yelled at you the last time I talked to you, and closed the door on you every time you reached out.” Clarke continued to list all of the ways she had wronged him, knowing she cannot take it back.

“I know you did, I was there.” Bellamy offered her a small smile which she didn’t return. He always added in lightness whenever she was gloomy, but she didn’t want that right now. Clarke was putting everything on the table, being vulnerable in front of the person she loved. 

“If you’re not going to take me seriously, Bellamy, I’m going to leave.” She went to move off of his lap, but his arms kept her in his grip even though she wasn’t really trying to get off in the first place. 

“I am taking you seriously, Clarke, and yes, you have been unfair. You broke my heart, Clarke, and the worst part is that you did it after I told you I was in love with you.” Clarke tried to ignore the pang in her chest as he spoke, and the loud  _ was  _ rang in her ears. “But I’m not mad at you anymore. I forgave you the second you stepped inside my apartment, maybe even before that.”

She shook her head, her arms loosening from his body. “That’s why I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your kindness, nor do I deserve your forgiveness. I ruined us.”

“Maybe you don’t deserve my forgiveness, but I’m giving it to you anyways. You fucked me up, and broke my heart, but I’m not an asshole that says no to a girl crying on his doorstep when it’s pouring outside. Especially when that girl is you, Clarke.” Bellamy stood up, scooping Clarke into his arms and walked towards the direction of his room. 

Clarke braced herself for the comment about her sudden weight lost as Bellamy set her down on the bed, but it never came. Instead, he gave her a tissue from his bed stand for her to wipe her face with then adjusted the pillows just the way she liked it. (She preferred to sleep with two pillows, always brought up how her neck would cramp with one pillow. Bellamy only had two pillows on his bed, so whenever she slept over, he would give her his pillows despite her attempts to reject it. It didn’t matter anyway, they always woke up to them being wrapped in one another.)

She blew her nose into the tissue, focusing on the picture of him and Octavia on one of the shelves while he stood right next to the bed with his hand in his pockets. Clarke didn’t know how to break the silence. She wasn’t going to be the first to speak, and she knew he wasn’t going to either. They were both stubborn like that.

When the silence got too deafening, Bellamy eased the tension by muttering, “I’ll be right back.” then walked out of the bedroom. She didn’t respond, she continued to stare blankly at the photograph on the shelf.

Clarke didn’t know how long she waited for Bellamy to return. She felt lifeless, didn’t even feel like she was in her own body, her own skeleton. She felt numb. Clarke stayed in the same position, her gaze not moving away from the photograph even though she couldn’t even see it in front of her. She let her eyes unfocus, turning the picture into a swirl colorful blurs until Bellamy stepped back into her peripheral vision.

With a plate of pizza rolls in his hand.

She looked up at him and raised a brow. “What is this?”

He rolled on the back of his heels. “Totino’s Pizza Rolls, of the cheese flavored variety. I’m hungry, what about you?” Bellamy placed the plate on the bed stand, then put one in his mouth. “Ow, it’s hot.” He complained, opening his mouth to pant.

“Ew, close your mouth when you eat!” Clarke swatted at him, shaking her head as he began to laugh. “You’re disgusting!”

“You love me.” Clarke made no attempt to deny it which didn’t escape Bellamy’s notice. His amused look softened, and he reached down to brush a lock of hair behind her cheek. “You should eat a little bit, Clarke.” Bellamy’s voice was gentle, and quiet, and it made her want to scream.

“I’m not hungry, Bell.” She argued.

“And you’re a guest in my humble home. It’d be rude not to accept my food, you know that right?” He retorted. 

Clarke groaned, accepting the fact she lost this argument because  _ yeah, it is rude if you don’t accept food if you’re a guest at someone’s home _ then shoved a pizza roll into her mouth. He grinned. She rolled her eyes.

Bellamy sat down at the foot of the bed as Clarke continued to eat, and she noticed that he didn’t even try to grab another piece for himself. Cheese pizza rolls are one of his favorite finger foods, and he was sitting there, silently, as Clarke continued to eat.

She ignored the voice in the back of her head, distorted in such a way that it sounded just like  _ her _ , complaining about how many calories she was eating and how pizza rolls weren't even healthy for her. Clarke was hungry, and she hadn’t eaten any junk food in a long time.

Bellamy looked around the room, not once looking at Clarke which she was grateful for. He always knew how uncomfortable she got when people looked at her when she was eating, believing it was too scrutinizing and plain wrong to do, which was ironic because all Lexa did was focus on her eating and how much she consumed. 

When the plate was seemingly empty, and Bellamy’s shaking knee finally laid dormant, he turned to her. 

“What happened, Clarke?”

Clarke sighed, the satisfied feeling from finally eating a full plate of food evaporated as quickly as it came. She laid her head back against the headboard, and shut her eyes.

“Do we have to talk about it?”

“There are a lot of things we could be talking about. And most of them end up with me forcing you out of my apartment after everything you’ve put me through, but I’m not going to throw that at your face. I know she hurt you. What happened?” Bellamy never put up with Clarke’s bullshit, even when it got really bad between them and she avoided him every time he tried to come into contact with her. He was the only person in her life that was honest, but not in a harsh way, in the way that she needed to hear because Bellamy was only ever real with her.

For a few minutes, she says nothing, neither of them so much as moving and then, “It’s our one year anniversary today, you know that? And I’m here, instead of being at home with my girlfriend.” Bellamy wasn’t the one to push. He had waited, like he always did. 

“I wore a dress she had picked out for me, and I spent hours on my makeup. I put my hair up the way she likes, and it still wasn’t enough.” Clarke continued, fiddling with her fingers as the memories from the day flashed in her mind. “The night got bad when she took me to this fancy restaurant, when she knows I hate those and how I probably won’t even finish a plate. I felt so out of place there, watching all of these happy people around me with their loved ones while I was eating with a person who despised me, and I just kept thinking about how she makes me hate myself.” She heard Bellamy inhale sharply, knowing that Bellamy would’ve fought Lexa if he ever saw her in person. Bellamy never liked Lexa, and the feeling was mutual. Clarke was aware of that, but she always chose to ignore it.

“I ordered the ‘light’ salad,” Clarke used her fingers to exaggerate the light, “Well, she did. She likes to order for me.” She didn’t even realize how her life slowly stopped being in control, and she inadvertently handed it to someone else to have power over. “Our orders got messed up and it wasn’t the waiter’s fault, but she acted like it was. Then I tried to tell her that it wasn’t worth getting mad about, that they’d fix it, and she started yelling.

“Suddenly it was my fault, I had messed up the orders. But I didn’t even order,” she looked up at Bellamy, her eyes begging him to understand, “I didn’t even order, but she acted like I was the one that fucked up, that had ruined everything. I couldn’t stop crying and I,” Clarke swallowed, “I told her I didn’t like the way she treats me and that it’s unfair for her to be mad at me over something I don’t have control over.”

Clarke let out a strained bubble of laughter. “The fucking waiter tried to comfort me while Lexa stormed out of the restaurant. You know how embarrassing that is? A stranger cared for me more than my own girlfriend does.” She laughed again, humorlessly, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“On the drive back, she didn’t say a word to me. I was trying so hard to stop crying because I knew how angry it gets her whenever I cry, so I didn’t want her to notice, but unfortunately she did because I can’t hide my swollen cheeks and my red eyes.” Clarke sniffled as Bellamy handed her another tissue wordlessly for her to blow her nose in. “When we went inside our house, she acted like nothing happened. Like our anniversary didn’t get ruined, and like she hadn’t me break down in front of dozens of strangers inside a fucking fancy ass restaurant. Lexa just set her bag down, took off her earrings, and asked me if I wanted some wine. I felt like I was going to explode, you know? She screamed at me for shit I didn’t even do, and she acted like nothing happened, that everything was gone just like that!” She snapped her fingers together, angry tears spilling out of her eyes.

“I confronted her about it, and I apologized to her even though I didn’t even do anything. And you know what she said? She said  _ I don’t know what you’re talking about, Clarke. Stop crying, you’re acting crazy,  _ and walked away from me. And I thought, this is it,  _ This is the gaslighting I’ve read about _ . I couldn’t stand it anymore.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at Bellamy.

“It was suffocating. So I just snapped. I started screaming, bawling my eyes out while telling her how she worsened my mental health and how every time I’m in the same room as her I want to kill myself.” Clarke heard Bellamy wince in the corner of her eye, but she was too busy speaking to actually notice it. “And she just stood there, with no expression, no emotion, nothing. Lexa just said,  _ It is not my fault that you’re not okay  _ and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t be there, I just walked out the door and suddenly I was here, with you.” 

Clarke looked up at Bellamy for the first time after she started speaking, and she was surprised to see the tears running down his cheeks. 

“Are you okay, Bell?” She asked, reaching to touch his hand to comfort him. He took her hand, and squeezed it tightly.

“Am  _ I  _ okay, Clarke? I am okay, but you aren’t.”

Clarke looked down at their intertwined hands, opened her mouth to say something then quickly decided against it. She pulled her hand back, pretending she didn’t notice the way Bellamy’s face shuttered. 

She turned away from him, putting her hands in her lap and stared down at the carpeted floor. “I don’t know, Bellamy. I don’t even know what okay means anymore, and I don’t know how I feel now. I stopped caring for myself a long time ago.” Clarke choked up, attempting to swallow down the lump in her throat.

Bellamy shifted his body to face her, wanting to interrupt her but stayed silent to let her continue. 

“I wanted to call you, or even just text you.” She said softly, tears beginning to fill her eyes again. “I thought about you everyday. I wondered what you were doing, and who you were with, and if you ate three meals.” Clarke didn’t even try to wipe her eyes; Bellamy already saw Clarke at her worst and loved her through it all. “I wondered if Octavia tried to talk to you again, and I wondered if you turned her away or let her back into your life even though all she does is hurt you.”  _ Just like you do with me _ , Clarke thought. Those six words were unspoken, but she knew that he was aware she was also talking about herself, and how Bellamy always prioritized others before him even when they hurt him. He never cared for himself, would rather be hurt by the people he loved most than not have them at all. 

Clarke resented him for that. He deserved better than all of this, than Octavia, than  _ her _ . But still, Bellamy stayed every time. He knew how to love others, but never himself. 

“Then why didn’t you?” Bellamy questioned her with no resentment in his voice. He approached her with such ease and care and  _ love _ , even when she didn’t deserve it. 

“At first, it’s because Lexa told me to stop talking to you.”  _ She made me stop talking to everyone,  _ she doesn’t say. “Lexa said that we were too close. She saw you as a threat to our relationship.” Clarke spoke clinically, as if she had rehearsed this in the mirror everyday. She didn’t feel like herself, feeling like she was not inside her body and watching this from an outer perspective.

Lexa did this to her, she knew. Lexa conditioned Clarke into making her leave her own body whenever she didn’t want to feel pain anymore.

“I don’t blame her for that, I could see why she thought you were a threat.” She said bluntly. 

“Why?”

She looked up at him with surprise, the stained tears on her face now dry. “You know why.”

Bellamy pursed his lips, wanting to argue, but deciding against it. The look of his face revealed that he hadn’t known this whole time that she was in love with him, and maybe, she shouldn’t have confessed it like that. It was cruel of her to do that, but that was all she knew what love was. 

It was cruel. 

“What happened after that?” Bellamy broke the moments of silence, both of them staring at each other, unsure of how to approach one another after Clarke’s vague confession.

“After what?”

“You said  _ at first  _ about you disappearing from my life. What happened after that?”

Clarke swallowed, and turned away from Bellamy’s scrutinizing gaze. She couldn’t stand it anymore, stand this. The schism between them was too large, too fragile, and whatever olive branch that was supposedly offered an hour before was now beginning to splinter.

“I was scared.” She confessed.

“Of what? Of me?” Bellamy sounded pained by her saying that, and she could already see the dark clouds looming over his face when it wasn’t his fault at all. It was hers.

“No, Bell. Of  _ me _ .” She stood from the bed, feeling trapped in the sitting position she had been in this whole time. Clarke began to pace around the room, while Bellamy stared at her in silence, waiting patiently for her to speak again.

“I thought if I called you, you would hate me. And I didn’t—I didn’t want to lose you even though I was one who pushed you away in the first place. I didn’t want you to confirm that you do hate me after everything I did, even though I deserve it more than anything. I didn’t want to do what Octavia does to you, Bellamy.” She stopped from her pacing to look at Bellamy, clenching her fists at the side. “But I became her anyway. Even if I don’t physically hurt you like Octavia does, I still hurt you.”

Bellamy looked like he wanted to argue, but Clarke stopped him by responding. “I’d rather believe you still care for me after me leaving you instead of you leaving me. You know how fucked up that is? I hurt the only person who has ever been there for me, and who I love more than anything in this fucking shitty world, and I still want him to love me after everything I put him through.” Clarke spat out, the anger in her tone was self-loathing and self-deprecating. 

“I am a shitty human being, and I didn’t want you to see that. Lexa was the one who showed me how poisonous I am, and I didn’t want you to see it. I didn't want you to hate me,” Clarke said, her voice catching. She just felt empty, and lost. She felt small.

Clarke didn’t even notice that Bellamy stood up from the bed, and was standing right in front of her. Moving towards her gingerly, so desperately wanting to touch her but not knowing what was best for her.

“Can I touch you?” He asked quietly.

“Yes.” She whispered back.

Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her, stroking the back of her head and kissing her hair. “I don’t hate you, Clarke. I never have, and I never will.”

“But you should.” She argued weakly.

“But I don’t.” Bellamy pulled away from the embrace to cradle her face in his hands. The way he looked at her hurt even more, she didn’t deserve it, and yet she craved it more than anything. 

“Why not?”

“Because I love you.” Bellamy said plain as day. He didn’t beat around the bush like she did, and when he loved, he loved with his all. He didn’t deserve her shitty love confession, and she didn’t deserve his love. 

Clarke sniffled, shaking her head. “I don’t deserve your love.”

“And yet, here I am. Giving you all of me.” He started walking backwards, until the back of his legs hit the bed, bringing Clarke with him. Bellamy sat down at the edge of the bed while Clarke stood between his legs, her feeling tiny yet so full of love. 

Clarke didn’t know how long they stayed in that position, wrapped in each other’s arms and looking into one another’s eyes. Their lips are merely inches away from each other, but neither of them dared to bridge the distance.

“I love Lexa.” Clarke said waveringly, her voice so quiet that she thought he couldn’t hear her.

“I know.” Bellamy brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, not drawing away but not moving any closer.

“And she loves me.” Clarke knew Lexa loved her in her sickening way. Lexa didn’t know how to love people in a healthy way. She loved obsessively, in a way that was addictive at first. Clarke had never fallen in love with someone so fast, didn’t fall head first for someone so blindly and so stupidly without glimpsing the red flags. She didn’t know that this would be the outcome, but the voice in the back of her head always told Clarke that she deserved this sort of love. The love that tore her apart, piece by piece.

Bellamy froze, and moved away from Clarke, breaking their closeness. She made a noise of protest, not wanting to lose his touch.

“That is not love, Clarke. She doesn’t love you.”

Clarke opened her mouth to argue, but Bellamy looked at her in a way that made her stop.

“If she loved you, she wouldn’t have hurt you like this. It is your anniversary, and you’re here with me, and your clothes are on my bathroom floor because they have been soaked through since you walked to my apartment in the pouring rain. If she loved you, she wouldn’t starve you, and she wouldn’t make you feel like shit. That isn’t love, Clarke. It’s abuse.” He spoke to her with such reverence, even when he was telling her the truth, he always spoke to her with tenderness. He would never hurt her purposely, she knew. He would rather be hurt than hurt her.

“Love is when you accept the person for who they are, and don’t try to change them. You love them for all their flaws and their mistakes, and let them learn from their mistakes and trust them to not repeat it. You encourage them to do what makes them happy, and not make them feel bad or embarrassed for being happy about such things. You’re there for the person you love, and you’ll step away if they ask you to give them space with no questions and no complaints. Love isn’t taking everything away from your partner, it’s when you give yourself without asking for anything back. And you deserve that kind of love, Clarke.” She began to cry again as she listened to Bellamy speak.

“You deserve it too, Bell.” Clarke’s hand brushed the side of his face, and he leaned into her touch.

She loved him. She knew for a fact that she was in love with him, and he loved her just as much. Maybe even more. Clarke wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, and get married and have the white picket fence. She wanted it so bad, but she wasn’t ready. And he knew it too.

“I wish I could let her go, and I want to. I so desperately want to, but I can’t.” Clarke was upset, at herself, at Lexa, at the world. She knew how bad Lexa was for her, even though she always tried to ignore her, she knew. If it was anyone else going through this, she would’ve done everything she could to put an end to it, but since it was her, Clarke would always believe she’d deserve this pain.

“It’s hard to let people go, and that’s not your fault.” Bellamy said gently, not wanting to push her any further. “Don’t force yourself, do it on your terms.”

“And what if I’m not ready for a while?” She asked. 

Bellamy got quiet, and Clarke thought about how when her relationship with Lexa did end, she wasn’t going to jump into a relationship with Bellamy just yet. She wasn’t in the right place for it, and she needed to talk to someone—a professional. Not lay all of her pain and tears on Bellamy, even if she knew he would gladly carry all of her burdens if she asked. 

That was what made him good, and she didn’t want to make him bear it all. He deserved love and ease, a world where he didn’t have to wake up with any worries in his mind and was able to live for himself. 

She knew if she spoke those thoughts aloud, Bellamy would say she deserved that too, so she stayed silent.

“Then that’s okay too.”

She was grateful he didn’t try to argue with her in that moment, didn’t try to push. Clarke was aware of how much Bellamy disliked Lexa especially with everything she just told him, but he didn’t push. He would stay with her, and support her until the end.

Clarke turned to look out the window, surprised to see the sun beginning to set.  _ How long has she been here with Bellamy? How long have they been talking? _ She thought about her phone, probably blowing up with Lexa’s texts but she didn’t want to worry about it. She wanted to stay here, with Bellamy.

Bellamy turned to look at what Clarke was looking at, and chuckled.

“Hey, remember when we used to always sit at the fire escape to watch the sun rise?” Clarke nodded, her mouth forming a small ‘o’ when she realized what his idea was.

“Want to go there?”

“Way ahead of you.” She pulled away from him to open the window.

He just beamed.

\---

They sat there in silence, Clarke sitting on the windowpane while Bellamy sat on one of the rusty stairs. She loved the comfortable silence more than anything, neither of them needing to speak. They didn’t see a need to fill the silence with words. All they needed was each other. (She lost sight of that, she knew. It was her mistake, and she was going to make it up for it. She was.)

“Let’s run away.” Bellamy broke the silence, and she turned to him in shock. Out of all of the things he could say, she didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“What do you mean by what? Let’s run away. Remember how we always wanted to move to New York City, and live in a shoebox apartment?” He placed his chin on his knee, beckoning her to move closer to him. She laughed, and jumped off of the windowpane, laughing even more after the fire escape began to shake a bit and Bellamy cried out  _ you’re going to kill us, this is old! _

“I remember.” She sat down next to him, and leaned her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to continue.

Bellamy and Clarke always used to fantasize about them running away together. It all started back at the library in high school, when their animosity for each other faded and they became each other’s everything. They were studying for finals, and they were both exhausted. Clarke, with the loss of her father, and Bellamy, with having to take care of the bills and Octavia. They should’ve been studying, but instead they spun a fantasy of them running away together.

(They always talked about it, but they never pursued it. Life got in the way, and everything else after that.)

“We can make a living, you and me. You with your art commissions, and I can get a teaching job. We won’t be living like billionaires, but we’d be happy.” Bellamy smiled as he spoke, and she could tell he was imagining them two, living in this tiny apartment together.

“A fake Elvis can marry us, and we’ll have three kids. One of them will be named Willa.” Clarke nodded, not wanting to end this fantasy of them together. She wanted it more than anything.

“I’d like to have five kids.” Bellamy pointed out, wiggling his five fingers.

Clarke swatted at his shoulders, feeling lighter for the first time in months. “We’ll have four, and not a single kid more.”

Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. “And we can go to our cottage in the middle of nowhere for vacation. I’m pretty sure our five kids would love that.” He nodded his head vigorously, sounding extremely confident.

“A cottage? With what money?” 

“Your trust fund, obviously.”

“Oh yeah, obviously.” They were beaming at each other. Their faces were so close, and she knew if she kissed him right now, he’d kiss back and he would pick her up in his arms and take her to his bed.

But they couldn’t. She had to go back to her place that was shared with her girlfriend, and end their relationship. It wasn’t fair to her, even though Lexa had caused her so much pain. She didn’t deserve to be cheated on, and Bellamy didn’t deserve to be cheated with.

The light atmosphere of the room dissipated. The sun was high in the sky. 

Clarke had to go back home, and face the music, but she didn’t want to. Not just yet. She hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.

Bellamy stood, and Clarke got scared he was going to make her leave. That this was already over.

Instead, he reached out his hand to her.

“I have some more chamomile tea in my cupboards, would you like some?” There was a glint in his eyes, and love in his voice.

And she returned it all.

“I would love that.”

She took his hand.

—

_ “Slowly, then all at once, a single loose thread and it all comes undone.” -Sleeping at Last _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! my headcanon for the ending is that clarke leaves lexa once and for all, then she goes to therapy and finally finds love for herself before she falls into a relationship with bellamy. it takes a while for her because she now has a fucked up perception of love, and she believes she doesn't deserve it. but bellamy is there for her, waiting always waiting and never gave up on her. she makes up for her mistakes and tries to not repeat them, and doesn't want him to give all of him to her because he deserves to have some love for himself. so they basically learn to love themselves, slowly and surely, while loving each other. together and all


End file.
